


You don’t love me (Like You Should)

by wasted_wallflower



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: (eventual) Mutual Pining, Ben and Devi are idiots in this, Canon Divergence from 1x05 onwards, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Miscommunication, Oh look another Fake Dating AU, Semi-Slow Burn, Some angst, okay a lot of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24097786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasted_wallflower/pseuds/wasted_wallflower
Summary: “I need a date.” Ben is standing outside her locker, his face all screwed up in an attempt to look sad, and oh no, she’s not falling for this. Devi is not going to feel sorry for him, not at all.“No.” She says and turns away. Ben catches up with her until he blocks her path with his stupidly long legs (how are they so long for someone so short?). “I’m not doing this, Gross. Why don’t you ask someone else, like Shira? I’m sure she’d be more than happy to do it if you paid her.”Ben winces. “I ... kinda told my parents that Shira and I broke up, and that I started dating you. Look David, I’m desperate. I can pay you.”Devi feels all the air leave her lungs, and she wants to yell at him, but the promise of some sweet, sweet cash is the only thing stopping her. “How much?”“Five hundred.” Ben answers.She scoffs. “Make it one thousand, and you’ve got yourself a deal” since screw ethics, Ben’s family is rich - he can deal.
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 56
Kudos: 154





	1. we were burning fires, running circles in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> Fake dating is a tried and true trope for every fandom, and this is my take on it for these two dweebs. This will be a multichapter fic, with alternating POVs between Ben and Devi, and I envision that I’ll have around five or six chapters in total. Title is taken from Hey Violet’s “You Don’t Love Me Like You Should”.
> 
> I highly recommend flashlightincave's Fake Dating fic [found a life worth living for someone else](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24084616/chapters/57968101) It's super well-written, go read it!
> 
> In case you're confused at the end, try to see it from Paxton's point of view: Devi wanted to have sex with him, backed out of it, embarrassed him by spreading a rumor that they had sex, and is apparently now having sex with Ben for money. He feels a little betrayed, hence the comment. I hope that clears things up!

The trouble starts when Ben opens his mouth because of course, Devi couldn’t have a nice, normal, Ben-free morning. She’s surprised he’s even talking to her after the Model UN debacle; he did tell everyone how she and Paxton had been hooking up (which was false and she _should have_ corrected him, but still, it’s the principle of the thing that you shouldn’t spread rumors that counts). 

“I need a date.” Ben is standing outside her locker, his face all screwed up in an attempt to look sad, and _oh no_ , she’s not falling for this. Devi is not going to feel sorry for him, not at all.

“No.” She says and turns away. Ben catches up with her until he blocks her path with his stupidly long legs _(how are they so long for someone so short?)_. “I’m not doing this, Gross. Why don’t you ask someone else, like Shira? I’m sure she’d be more than happy to do it if you paid her.” 

Ben winces. “I ... kinda told my parents that Shira and I broke up and that I started dating you. Look, David, I’m _desperate_. I can pay you.” 

Devi feels all the air leave her lungs, and she wants to yell at him, but the promise of some sweet, _sweet_ cash is the only thing stopping her. “How much?” 

“Five hundred.” He answers. 

She scoffs. “Make it one thousand, and you’ve got yourself a deal” since screw ethics, Ben’s family is rich - he can deal. 

“One thousand? Come on David, you’re not _that pretty_.” He says in this snotty, affronted tone and Devi counts to ten in her head to prevent herself from blowing up at him. 

“And yet, here you are, offering to pay me to be your date. I know my worth Ben, and it’s not five hundred dollars. So thanks but no thanks, you’ll have to find someone else.” She sashays away in a way she _knows_ Queen Bey would be proud of, and Ben makes this frustrated noise, before yelling “Fine, one thousand it is.” 

_Yes!_ She turns around, beaming. He’s behind her holding out one hand, and she shakes it. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, Ben.” She says in her most sugary sweet voice, and Ben rolls his eyes before snatching his hand away like he can’t bear to touch her for one second longer. 

“You won’t think that after this week.” He snarls back, but she’s already dismissing him with a wave of her hand (Queen Elizabeth would be _so proud_ ) and strides down the hallway. She just became a thousand dollars richer, _and_ she gets to humiliate Ben in front of his parents? Her day just got turned around. 

Her good mood lasts until lunch when she walks into the cafeteria and everyone stares at her. It’s completely silent - more silent than the first time she went to get lunch while paralyzed – and then Fabiola and Eleanor make a mad dash for her, grab her by the arms and drag her out towards the teacher’s lounge. Devi pretends not to notice that as soon as she leaves (albeit forcibly), the roaring din of multiple conversations springs to life. 

She struggles a bit, but it turns out Fabiola and Eleanor’s combined strength is too much for her to handle, and they shut the door in an impressive feat of agility, ignoring Mr. Shapiro’s knocks. 

“We’re having lady issues, Mr. Shapiro,” Eleanor yells, and the knocks immediately stop. Devi can vaguely hear him asking if they need pads or chocolate, and she shudders because, _ew_ (not that periods are a bad thing, but it’s _Mr. Shapiro_ ). 

“So, Devi.” Fabiola starts, “ignoring the fact that you blew up at us when we had some _vital information_ to tell you, we need to talk.”

“About what?” She asks, but they both give her a look. _Oh no_. 

“About the fact that you’re _prostituting_ yourself to _Ben Gross_. I know that you and Paxton have been going through a rough spot - he hasn’t even looked at you this morning with his gorgeous hazel eyes – but you _cannot_ have sex with Ben Gross as payback, even for a thousand dollars.” Eleanor declares, her hands settling on Devi’s shoulders. 

“It’s true, Devi. You may look like an Indian Kardashian, but you don’t want to get your fame the same way Kim did – or by being an escort. Do you know that sex workers are at a much higher risk of violence than other groups of women, and if we break it down by race - “ Eleanor cuts Fabiola off with a hushed _“not now”_ , and gives Devi a shake. 

“Look at me. You are a badass woman who had sex with the hottest guy in school; Ben Gross is going to be nowhere near as good as Paxton. I bet his dick is bigger - “ At this, Devi clamps her hand over Eleanor’s mouth, effectively silencing her. She’s going to have to tell the truth. 

“Eleanor, Fabiola.” She removes her hand from Eleanor’s mouth, wipes it on her jeans, and grabs both their hands, ignoring Eleanor’s shudder. “I didn’t have sex with Paxton.” 

They blink simultaneously, and then they both shriek _“What?”_. _Oh boy_ , Devi thinks, her heart sinking. 

“I didn’t have sex with Paxton, I just let you two and everyone else think I did.” She confesses, looking down at the ground. 

“But _why?_ ” Fabiola asks, clearly perplexed. She can feel the weight of Eleanor’s stare boring into her like a thousand cuts, and she forces herself to look up at them. 

“I wanted people to think I was cool, and I’ll have you know that Paxton agreed to my proposition, but I freaked out when he took off his shirt, and then it didn’t happen.” 

They’re both looking at her, and Devi feels her heart sink even further until it reaches the bottom of her stomach. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just didn’t want you to think I was lame.” 

“We don’t think you’re lame,” Eleanor says, her tone unexpectedly soft. “What’s lame is that you thought you had to lie to us to seem cool or whatever.” 

“I know.” Devi shakes her head, trying to will some stubborn tears out of her eyes. “I’m also really sorry that I wasn’t there for you both, I was too busy being caught up in my own issues and selfish.” 

“Well, while you were pretty selfish, we forgive you,” Fabiola adds, her hand squeezing Devi’s tightly. “But why you are accepting money from Ben Gross? He said ‘you won’t think that after this week’ and oh my God, Devi, are you going to let him into your _cave of wonders_ for an entire week? Can your vagina handle a week of non-stop sex?”

Devi makes a face and looks at Fabiola and Eleanor with much more confidence than she feels. “Fabiola, never say “cave of wonders” again. And you guys, I’m not going to be an escort, especially not for Ben Gross. He offered to pay me to date him for a week - apparently, he told his parents that we were dating, since he and Shira broke up.” 

Eleanor lets out a squeal. “Oh fake dating, I love it! You and Ben always had an Elizabeth and Darcy thing going on, and I’m so honored to be a part of this journey where you both realize your _true_ feelings for each other.” 

Fabiola is looking at Devi, her face a mixture of apprehension and horror, and asks hesitantly, “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, you and Ben hate each other, and you’re going to have to kiss and touch him.” 

Well, shit. Devi hadn’t considered that and while Ben is only annoying on a _good_ day, she can kind of see the appeal: big blue eyes, a nice smile, pink lips and the idea of shutting him up with a kiss is suddenly much more appealing for reasons she refuses to consider. 

“Look, Fab, El. It’ll be fine; I get money, Ben gets the clout of dating yours truly, and it’s only a week. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

  


It turns out that things get much worse. Everywhere Devi goes, people stop and stare, and while she wishes it was because they finally realized that she was clearly the superior student in her and Ben’s rivalry and hot enough to make boys heads turn, she knows this is not the case. 

Mr. Shapiro corners her and Ben after class, his hands making gestures that she assumes are meant to be calming, and she shoots Ben a look. He shrugs back in response, just as confused as she is. 

“Ben, Devi. There are some rumors about the two of you –" He starts, but Ben cuts him off. 

“You mean the rumor that I paid Devi for a week of sex?” Both she and Mr. Shapiro flinch at that, and she pinches Ben under the desk, _hard_. His yelp of surprise does make her feel a bit better, but not that much. 

“Yes … that one.” Mr. Shapiro says, clearly flustered. “I know that you’re both at an age where you want to take your clothes off and touch each other, but let me tell you –" At this, both Ben and Devi let out shocked shouts. 

“I would _never_. Ben would be lucky to even see me like that.” Devi says, and Ben rolls his eyes. “As if. You need to get your eyes checked.” He responds, smirking. _God, she hates him, why did she agree to this?_

“So you two aren’t going to - ?” He’s interrupted by both of them yelling an emphatic _“No”_. 

“Look, Mr. Shapiro.” Ben is putting on his charm, all smug smiles and flattery-thick tone “Devi and I were just betting on which one of us would get a perfect score on our SATs, and since she refused to accept that I would ultimately come out on top, we decided to up the ante a bit, you know?” 

“Up the ante with one thousand dollars?” He questions. “Ben, Devi, that’s a lot of money; you really shouldn’t do this.” 

Ben laughs like he just said something really funny. “Mr. Shapiro, one thousand dollars is not that much. Right, Devi?” He’s looking at her with that stupid smug smirk of his, and she nods, giving their teacher a soft if strained, smile. 

“Yeah, it’s really nothing.” 

Mr. Shapiro studies both of them, his dark brown eyes full of scrutiny, and Devi is proud of the fact that neither she nor Ben fidget under the weight of his **DisappointedTeacher TM** stare. 

“Well, if you’re sure. I have to say that I’m not pleased with either of you, and I will be letting your parents know about this _bet_. Now, both of you, get to class.” 

They look at each other and look back at Mr. Shapiro. “Mr. Shapiro, you really shouldn’t tell our parents about this bet, I mean, they’re already so busy,” Devi says, trying hard to not let her panic show. 

“Exactly.” Ben jumps in, being his usual charming self _(and when did she start thinking of Ben as charming?)_. “I meant to tell you earlier, but this is last time Devi and I will be competitive with one another. I decided that it’s time for us to outgrow this childish, inane rivalry and while she took some convincing, the promise of money got her to agree with my brilliant idea.” 

Mr. Shapiro stands still, riveted by Ben’s incredibly false and inaccurate tale. “So, you’re telling me that you two will not compete with one another anymore after you receive your SAT results?” 

They nod. “It’s really due to your influence, sir.” Ben continues, his voice as smooth as butter. “You see, while we’ve been learning about all these awful atrocities, Devi and I realized that our actions towards one another were no better than those of the perpetrators of such horrific acts of violence, so we’ve decided to stop our rivalry once and for all with this bet.” 

Their teacher sighs, rubbing his forehead into his hands. “Mr. Shapiro,” Devi adds, “I know that this doesn’t seem like a good idea, but it’s the only bet where there are some stakes involved beyond one of us bruising our egos. Trust me when I say that this will stop our rivalry.” She gives him her best puppy eyes, ignoring Ben’s surprised expression. 

“Fine, I won’t tell your parents. But this is it, otherwise, both of you will be doing unpaid, academic work for me.” 

“Like an internship?” She and Ben exclaim at the same time, but quickly shut their mouths after he gives them an irritated look. 

“Just get to class. Here are your hall-passes.” He hands them each a pink hall-pass, and as soon as they leave the classroom, Ben and Devi give each other a high five. _That was close_.

“So, how are we doing this?” She asks. “The fake dating thing?” 

Ben looks at her, his eyes surprisingly gentle and she feels her heart-rate increase like it does around Paxton. _Oh no_. 

“Meet me at the library after school, we need to make a plan and make it look convincing. I don’t think that most people will believe that we suddenly started dating, especially since they believe that I paid you to have sex with me.” He says, his tone light, but there’s some sadness underneath, and before she can linger on it for too long, he goes to his AP Calc class and she heads to her AP Stats class. 

She spends most of class not focusing on T-tests and Z-tests, but rather thinking about how Ben looked almost vulnerable and sad outside of Mr. Shapiro’s classroom. He was kind of nice to her, and it’s been weird, but being his fake-girlfriend for a week means that Ben has to be nice (well niceish) to her, right? 

As soon as class ends, Devi shoves her notebook into her bag (she feels bad about not taking notes but she can get them from Fabiola later) and heads to the library. Ben’s sitting at a table near the very back, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to the elbow and the muscles of his forearms flex in a way that Devi refuses to acknowledge as attractive.  
He looks up and smiles, and it’s not a bad smile. _He has very straight white teeth_ , she thinks stupidly. _Focus, Devi, focus_. 

“You’re here.” He says. “I didn’t think you knew what a library was; you don’t study here, which probably explains why your test scores are lower than mine.” And just like that, her mood instantly sours. 

“I thought we were here to make our plan, not talk about test scores. And for your information, I got a perfect score on my PSAT, while you only got a 1500.” She smiles, taking no small amount of delight in the offended look on his face. 

“Obsessed much?” He sneers and she bats her eyes at him. “Why of course, I’m obsessed with you, I’m your _girlfriend_ after all.” His face turns red, and Devi smirks. This is going to be so fun. 

“Here.” He shoves a piece of paper at her. “Don’t ruin it. I’ve already started writing down the steps we need to take to make this look real.” 

Underneath the bland title “Ben and Devi: Fake Dating Plan (version 1)” she reads four steps written in Ben’s somewhat decent hand-writing: 

    1. Public Displays of Affection: As much as it pains me to touch you and you to touch me, we’re going to have to hold hands, cuddle during lunch and kiss (on the cheek), preferably at our lockers. We will hold hands on the way to class, sit with each other at lunch, and give each other goodbye kisses (on the cheek) when we separate for fourth period.
    2. Nicknames: You can call me “Ben-Ben” sparingly, and I can call you “Dev” (similar to that of Ben and Leslie’s nicknames for one another on Parks and Rec). Do not, under any circumstances, call me anything along the lines of sweetheart, sugarplum, snookums, etc.
    3. The date: We have to be seen outside of school together at least once, and my dad and mom are letting me have a party for my sixteenth birthday, so we can act official and “coupley” then. 
    4. The breakup: We break-up in a dramatic fashion in which you declare your undying love for me and I push you away, exactly one week from today. We need to do it somewhere public; I was thinking the hallway. 

Devi looks at him, incredulous. “We need to change step four, _sweetheart_.” Ben lets out a growl and grabs it back from her, muttering about his plan was already perfect. 

“What do you suggest we change, _darling_?” He snaps, metaphorical hackles raised. 

“No one is going to believe that I am in undying love with you. We need to realize our relationship is a mistake, insult one another, and then publicly break up. It’s more true to both of us.” 

He sighs, but grabs his eraser and changes the plan accordingly. He signs “Ben Gross” at the bottom, and hands it to her. She signs “Devi Vishakumar” in painstaking cursive. It feels weirdly official, which is bizarre since they don’t even like each other and they’re only fake dating for a week. 

Ben doesn’t look at her as he shoves the plan back into his bag and just walks out the door. She has to run to catch up with him, and reason 999 as to why Paxton is better than Ben: his leg strides aren’t nearly as long. 

“Hey! Don’t abandon me like that.” She says, feeling a bit offended and hurt and she’s not sure why. Ben just looks at her, his face blank. “We’re supposed to be dating, remember? You can’t be all hot and cold- you have to treasure me.” Devi hates how petulant she sounds, but Ben needs to get it through his head that fake-dating _is not a joke_ , they have to make it look real. 

He laughs, exposing the long lean line of his pale throat, and looks down at her. “Treasure you?” 

“Yes!” She shouts, pulling his face down close to hers; she needs to make her point. “Treat me like you would your real girlfriend.” 

He smiles at that and it’s a bit terrifying to have his face this close; he looks like every serial killer’s high-school yearbook photo, but she won’t back down. “Alright.” He says with that stupid smug smirk plastered all over his face. 

And then he kisses her. 

Devi lets out something that is definitely not a squeak _(it's a squeak) _and he smiles against her lips. His lips are soft, and taste vaguely like Burt’s Bees Honey Lip Balm, and he cradles the back of her head so gently like she’s made of glass. Her hands somehow find their way into his hair and he nibbles at her bottom lip, and _holy shit, his tongue is in her mouth_. It’s weird but a good kind of weird and he’s really good at this; she should kiss him more often. __

____

____

Someone coughs and they jump apart. She becomes acutely aware of how messy her hair is, and tries to smooth it down with her fingers. Ben isn’t looking much better. 

“So you already moved on, huh?” A voice says and the blood in her veins becomes ice. 

_Fuck_. _Paxton._





	2. You and I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben attempts to deal with his feelings. As predicted, it doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s tone is a bit different because Ben is a sad boi with sad boi feelings (1x06 affected me for days since I was able to view how deep Ben’s loneliness ran) and it deals with some negative self-talk and self-loathing. If this is triggering, do not read past the line: “Shira’s last words haunt him sometimes.” Also, I headcanon both Ben and Devi as math-nerds, so take that as you will.
> 
> Ben’s a wholeass dumbass in this, just thought to give you all a heads-up. Devi isn't much better. 
> 
> The spicy comment was by inspired the second chapter of flashlightinacave’s fake-dating fic that I linked in the first chapter of this; it had me rolling.

Ben watches her leave. He supposes that if he's accurate, he watches her shove him away after their kiss and run after Paxton, apologizing over and over. _God forbid she kiss someone else_.

(He resolutely ignores how soft her lips were, how nice her hair felt under his fingers, and how he could smell hints of her perfume; it smelled like cinnamon and something flowery that he couldn't quite put his finger on).

(He also realizes how stereotypical and orientalist it is to compare her perfume to spices or to think of it as exotic).

The point is, Ben just wanted to rile her up a bit. She had pulled his face down to hers, presumably to make it easier for her to shout at him, and she had that unbearably smug "I am right by being Devi Vishwakumar" look on her face, and when she said, "treat me like you would your real girlfriend," he went for it.

The only thing is, he didn't expect kissing David ( _her name's Devi_ , his brain supplies unhelpfully, and _stop it brain, no one asked you_ ) to be kind of _nice_. She had let out this cute squeak, and he could taste her bubblegum flavored lip-gloss, and her hands were suddenly in his hair, and he realized that he possibly might have been a bit screwed. How was cheek-kissing going to cut it now that he knew how her lips felt against his?

And then Paxton Hall-Yoshida ruined what should have been his moment to prove her wrong. Ben knows that he's not even in the same league as Paxton – he's wealthy, sure, but Paxton is _hot_. He's straight but he isn't _blind_ , okay? Paxton's facial structure is like that of a Greek God, strong cheekbones and full lips, and he has three Tumblr blogs dedicated to how attractive he is and Ben … doesn't.

He's left alone standing in the hallway _(he's always alone)_ and decides to make his way home. He's not going to do something stupid, like cry; he doesn't even _like_ her. This fake dating thing is just a means to an end, after all. She gets the clout of dating him, and he gets to prove to Shira that he can get a girlfriend after her.

(Shira's last words when they broke up come back to haunt him sometimes when he's lying awake in bed at night. "You're never going to get a girlfriend without your money; it's why I dated you for so long. _Do you really think a girl is going to like you for you?"_ She had said, her full lips curved into a sadistic smile, and something in Ben broke a little bit. If he cried afterward wishing for someone to comfort him, it was nobody's business but his own.)

So yeah, maybe he had to bribe Devi to act as his girlfriend, but it doesn't matter; it's the principle of the thing that he is completely, utterly over Shira, so much so that he's dating someone else. High school students love a good romance - but what they love even more is gossip - and now that they know that Ben Gross and Devi Vishwakumar are doing stuff together after years of being at each other's throats, the rumor mill will make its way back to Shira. She'll act offended that he's dating someone less pretty than her, and Ben will finally be able to show that someone likes him for him.

(Shira was like ice, beautiful and transparent and full of sharp edges and cold. Devi is like fire, full of rage and all-consuming in her passion, and it's so easy to lose himself in her warmth).

When he enters his house, the crushing weight of disappointment settles over his shoulders. Of course, his parents aren't home; they're _never home_. Even when he told them that he broke up with Shira, his mother just let out a sigh, saying, "I was hoping that she would be the Jewish American Princess to your Prince – are you sure you can't get back together with her? Why don't you buy her something nice?" And he had frozen, his anger cooling into panic as he realized that his mother wouldn't accept not meeting his girlfriend, and blurted out, "I'm dating someone else."

Both his parents looked up in surprise, and their attention had felt good, like a soothing balm over his bruised ego and he lied, desperate to keep it for as long as possible.

And then, as soon as the words: "I'm dating Devi Vishwakumar" came off his lips, Ben realized he fucked up.

But he can't take it back _now_ ; he and Devi are fake dating for a week, and his parents are excited to meet her and _God; he cannot believe that he's pathetic enough to go along with this sham just to get their attention_.

The sterile white walls of his bedroom make him feel claustrophobic like they're closing in on him. He can't breathe, and Ben doesn't understand how his life can be so great and yet so awful at the same time. His dad has a Porsche Cayenne that he promised Ben could drive once he turned 16; he has a pool and an entire house to himself – how many other teens can even say that? No one - except _maybe_ Devi, and that's a generous maybe - is on his level. He's an academic superstar (Patty's words, not his), he has an excellent sense of style, and he has never felt so alone.

Ben covers his hands with hands, sighing deeply. He has Calc homework to do and even though it's child's play _(and why was Eric complaining about not understanding how to take a limit, it's not that hard)_ , he loses himself in taking limits via l'hôpital's rule and practicing Euler's method and single variable integration. The last two topics technically aren't being taught in class yet, but his rigorous AP exam preparation schedule requires that he learn the entirety of AP Calc AB and BC before the end of the year if he wants to beat David.

He pulls out his phone. He usually has a strict no-phone policy during his homework time, but this is important.

He acts like he doesn't know her number like the back of his hand (early on, he made sure that he committed Devi's number to memory, just give him the advantage of checking in on the competition), and as soon as he sees that taunting, blinking cursor in iMessage, his mind goes blank. He doesn't know what to type. " _Hey, even though I loathe you and I think you're a festering pustule in my side, you're an adequate kisser. Want to do that again sometime?"_ doesn't seem like it would cut it.

He gets halfway through typing " _Hope Paxton's delicate sensibilities weren't offended by you kissing me,"_ before deleting it. Their kiss was just that, a kiss. It wasn't life-changing or earth-shattering or anything, and Shira was a much better kisser than Devi anyway ( _no she wasn't_ , a sing-songy voice that sounds like his Mom says, and he pushes it away. He doesn't have time to deal with this).

He finally settles on: _You do know statistics is the inferior mathematical discipline, right?_ and hits send.

She responds with a **Wdym??** in under a minute. Typical.

_Please, David, spell out your words. I don't have the time or the intellectual capacity to think about the stupidity of acronyms today. And I mean what I said._

Those three dots keep appearing and disappearing, and Ben is vaguely reminded of that low-tier meme with Ralph from the Simpsons where he chuckles and says, "I'm in danger" (and why is he thinking about that? It's not like Devi's opinion matters).

**Okay, so we all know that you don't have the intellectual capacity to know that your earlier statement is clearly incorrect, but I'll break it down for you. Statistics is applicable, Ben-Ben, and calculus isn't. Someday you'll be locked in a room, mindlessly doing proofs that don't mean anything, while I'll be doing math that counts.**

Ben ignores the flip-flop motion of his stomach when he sees his nickname appear, and if a smile appears on his face at her indignation, it doesn't mean anything.

 _Sure Jan_. He texts back since he knows that phrase irritates her. He can picture that cute _(cute?)_ crinkling of her eyebrows, and that huff she makes when she's frustrated, _and why is every flaw of hers suddenly endearing?_

**Don't dismiss me Ben-Ben. Are you even smart enough to do calculus-based physics?**

The smile slides off his face.

_Yes, I am. The question is, can you keep up with my superior mind and do calculus-based physics?_

She responds immediately with a **yes. ur mind isn't superior, FYI.** His calculus homework forgotten (he had finished it anyway), he decides to Facetime her. The only thing better than imagining her face when she loses is _seeing it_.

(And no, this is not an excuse to see her. That would be stupid.)

She picks up after the second ring, her hair in disarray, glasses on her face, and she looks almost cute in a nerdy way _(wait, what?)_.

"What do you want, _snookums?"_ She snarls. "I'm a bit busy."

He resists the urge to snarl back and bare his teeth at her like some primitive man of old and forces himself to calm down. "But _sweetie_ , are you busy enough to lose to me by doing calculus-based physics?" Her eyes get wider, and he relishes the smug sense of satisfaction running through him at the affronted look on her face.

"As if." She says, flipping her hair back. "Send it to me."

They spend the rest of the evening working against each other, and sometimes, it's easy to focus on how she brushes her hair back or sticks her tongue out in concentration, instead of working on problems. Her glasses slide down her nose and his fingers itch to push them up or remove them entirely to get a better view of her dark brown eyes, and Ben can picture that all-too-tempting fire in her eyes springing up as he leans in to kiss –

 _What the hell?_ The thought comes to him unbidden, and he shakes his head. _Focus, Ben, focus_.

In the end, she wins by one point, and he doesn't even mind as much as he typically would. Something is wrong with him; he decides if he now finds spending an evening working with Devi Vishwakumar to be _fun_.

She smiles at him, her eyes alright with victory, and Ben doesn't think he's seen her this happy in a long time. His stomach makes that irritating flip-flopping motion, and his heart starts beating a bit faster, and _oh no_.

 _Oh no_.

Shit. This is a bad idea, and he doesn't have bad ideas. This has to be an exception – a horrible, freakish exception driven by desperation.

He hangs up, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. He ignores all of the texts from Devi ( _David_ , he reminds himself fiercely, _he has to remember that she is not his friend and he doesn't even like her_ ), and lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

It's only then that he admits defeat _(and he's so glad she's not here since she would have a field day)_. "You are an idiot, Ben Gross." He says. His blank white ceiling stares back at him, almost like it's judging him, and he rolls over onto his side, willing all thoughts of _David_ out of his mind.

Spoiler alert: it doesn't work.

By the time morning comes around, Ben is sleep-deprived, angry at his new annoying feelings, and not even Patty escapes his wrath. He feels awful afterward and promises to make it up to her, but then he sees his nemesis-turned-fake-girlfriend (which is bizarre and _God, how is this his life?_ ) at his locker and all thoughts of his favorite house manager fade away.

"Hey, Ben-Ben." Devi - _David_ says. She's wearing a red dress with a jean jacket, and her bronze eyeshadow and eyeliner accents her eyes, making them look a bit bigger ( _and easier to drown in and why did he suddenly think that?_ ). He can smell her slightly spicy, sandalwood-like perfume, and her lips look so soft. She kisses him on the cheek, and for the first time in his life, his awesome, glorious brain short-circuits.

"Are you okay? You didn't respond to any of my texts." He forces himself to look at her and nods.

"I'm fine. I was just busy." His voice cracks. She gives him a funny look, and then giggles in a way that he refuses to acknowledge as cute.

"I didn't think you cared." He adds, knowing that he sounds harsh, and her hand jerks away from his. Maybe if he pushes her away and makes her regret accepting his offer, things will go back to normal between them.

"Well, I don't _now_. Excuse me for trying to be nice." She snaps back, her tone bristly and antagonistic, and somehow, this hurts more than their regular banter. He ignores it.

They sit next to each other in Chemistry and English, and she grabs his hand, giving it a _hard_ squeeze whenever he tries to answer a question before flawlessly answering it herself. Devi has this infuriating smirk on her face like she knows how badly her grip strength hurts. Well, two can play at this game. Ben places his other hand on her thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles into her smooth skin, and every time her breath hitches when she answers a question, he smirks right back at her.

She corners him in the hallway. "Ben, what the fuck was that?" Her breathing is somewhat labored and he has to force his thoughts to stay PG, which is weird since she isn't even that pretty ( _yes she is_ , his brain reminds him, and while he would normally never insult his internal monologue and it really is a shame that he's the only one that gets to hear it, _his brain needs to shut up_ ).

"I have no idea what you're talking about, David." He smiles at her, and she growls in frustration. She grabs his hand again, and he's surprised at how well their hands fit together, _and now's not the time to think about that_.

"You violated our contract _again_. You touched my thigh, which is not permissible; you wrote that we could only cuddle and hold hands and kiss each other on the cheek." He's pleased to see that her voice has taken on a frustrated and confused tone, and it's so fun to make her angry. This is familiar territory and one of the many, _many_ things he's good at.

"Consider it payback for you squeezing my hand so hard. You made me lose my concentration, so I figured it was best to make you lose yours." Her nostrils flare and her eyes darken, and then she crushes his hand hard enough to make him bite down a litany of curses.

The lunch bell rings and she drags him down the hallway with the same level of single-minded determination she usually invests in attempting to beat him. "We're going to eat lunch with Eleanor and Fabiola." She says, ignoring his protests.

Eleanor Wong and Fabiola Torres look at him with unguarded suspicion, their lunches soon abandoned in favor of staring at him. He feels trapped under their gaze and attempts to make awkward, stilted conversation with the both of them. When Devi leaves to go get some chili flakes, complaining about how square pizza isn't spicy enough _(and what does she expect? It's got marinara sauce; it's plenty spicy)_ , they gang up on him.

"Ben Gross," Eleanor Wong says, her tone pleasant and her eyes full of malice, "if you hurt Devi, whether it be with your words, your actions or your dick, Fabiola and I will make sure you never touch another girl again."

"Wait, what?" He asks, baffled. "You do realize that I'm only paying her to fake-date me, not for sex, right?"

"Oh, we know." Fabiola Torres pipes up, her voice is unexpectedly harsh for such a quiet person. "We're just saying that if somehow, one thing leads to another and you take advantage of her in any way, we will come after you."

"But what about me? What if she hurts me?" He sounds petulant, but Devi has some seriously strong grip strength, and they both shrug, looking at each other before returning their glare onto him.

"We'll be sure to join in." Eleanor declares calmly, and Fabiola nods in agreement.

It's at this moment that Devi appears, and while he never thought he would thank any sort of deity for bringing Devi Vishwakumar back into his life, today has been a strange day, so he gives himself an exception.

"I hope you know that your friends are the most terrifying people I've ever met." He murmurs into her ear, leaning against her back. She laughs, and he can feel the vibrations travel through his body and he has a sudden urge to make her laugh like that again, but like everything that doesn't follow his meticulously laid out life plan, Ben squashes it into dust and shoves it far into the back of his mind.

"Come on, _babe_. We're going to be late for history." She says, the babe sounding almost fond. He doesn't mind.

Mr. Shapiro eyes them as they walk through the door, his mouth agape as he notices their linked hands and for once Ben is glad to not have the man staring at him with attempted professional sadness as he talks about the Holocaust ( _and yes, it was an awful, horrific event,_ but being the token Jew that everyone stares at when it's discussed is draining). He zones out because it's not like world history is hard or anything. Devi's hand has become more of a comforting pressure rather than a pain, even if he has to switch and write with his non-dominant hand. She scowls when she notices that he's ambidextrous, and there's yet another reason why they are on different levels - he's clearly on the higher one, of course.

It feels weird to be in Calculus without her, which freaks him out a bit. He assumed that his one free period would be a wonderful 90 minutes of respite, and he may have to evaluate some of the steps of his plan; he wanted it to look real, _not start feeling real (and wow, he's even lonelier than he thought)_. The increasing comfort with his sworn enemy alarms him – he has to put a stop to these emerging feelings immediately.

She greets him after he gets out of class, a slight smile on her lips. "Hey, Ben-Ben. How was Calc? Did you realize it didn't apply to anyone's life?"

He knows that she's teasing him, playing the part of a dutiful girlfriend, but he's frustrated and annoyed and overall confused, and he snaps, "Leave me alone."

Devi follows him into an abandoned classroom, her white Converse squeaking against the linoleum floor. "You do realize that's no way to talk to your girlfriend, don't you _Ben-Ben_?" She says in this sarcastically sweet tone and shuts the door. They have to keep up appearances after all.

"Well, _Dev_ ," Ben refuses to consider how her nickname rolls off his tongue without issue, almost like he was meant to say it. "You aren't my girlfriend, so I can talk to you however I want."

She rolls her eyes before saying. "I know I'm not your girlfriend. You just have to treat me like it while we're at school." The last point is punctuated by her sweeping her arms open – she's mocking him.

"You're not even that good at being a girlfriend." He says. Her face falls.

"Hey! It's not like you're that great at being a boyfriend, either. I have to put up with you for an entire week." She retorts, eyes flashing.

"How am I not good at being your boyfriend? Is it because I'm not Paxton?" She looks angry, incredibly angry, and Ben's itching for a fight.

"Don't bring him up." Devi hisses. She's closer to him, obviously trying to intimidate him, and he can smell her perfume, and it makes him dizzy.

"Why not? _Do you like him_?" She jerks away like she's been slapped, and he smirks.

"It's none of your business Ben." Her breathing is a bit heavier now _(and why is he thinking about how she sounded when he put his hand on her thigh?)_. "And for the record, Paxton would be a much better boyfriend than you. He wouldn't touch my thigh without my permission, or steal my first kiss." The last part is muttered, but unfortunately for Devi and fortunately for Ben, he's always had above-average hearing.

His first thought is, "there's _no way that was her first kiss,"_ but he pushes it aside. "Like you could kiss any better than me."

Her eyes snap up to meet his. "You want to bet?" She sneers, and before he can get another word in edge-wise, she grabs him by the collar and pulls him in.

She kisses him like she fights, full of aggression and he can taste her bubblegum lip-gloss, and his brain short-circuits _again_ ( _this cannot be good for his health_ ). Her teeth sink into his bottom lip, and he can feel her grin against his lips when he lets out a high-pitched noise of surprise, and her hands are pulling at his hair, running along his shoulders, like she's trying to get him closer. His hands have minds of their own; they're roaming along her shoulders and down to the small of her back, and he grips her closer to him, relishing in her sharp yelp. She kisses with him more ferocity, pressing her hands against the underside of his jaw, and as soon as she began, she _stops_.

"I shouldn't have done that," Devi whispers, pulling away. He tries to grab her; they need to talk about this and figure how to modify the contract, but she twists out of his grip and runs out the door.

  
  


And then Ben is alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is Chapter 2! My update schedule won't be as frequent, as summer classes are starting up and I predict that they will take up most of my time; however, I will update at least once a week on Wednesdays (and Saturdays if I get all of my work out of the way). 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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